For My Lovers (Sam Ray - New Orleans, LA)

You want me to go mad a bit?

To scream, tear out my hair a bit?

You know I've been asking why of it.

Why never came into it.

You were you and I was me,

We played let's pretend, now I see.

There was I

dying slow,

I could never tell you no.

Here, were you?

Living fast

Would you please respond at last?

I must know better than to ask.

Our fates are sealed

The die is cast.

Le jeu est fait, we said in French.

Blood spills,

the floor, drenched

“Who was it?” one day they'll ask.

"That old wench?"

Will you laugh before the inevitable reply?

"Some old fag who got me high."

I could shriek “you broke my heart!”

When each of us had our part.

Fact is, the stupid thing gave out

long before our first, fatal shout.

So take these words,

wrap them in your chords,

make a song, make a sigh,

just please, please look me in the eye.

You were me and I was you

Our empty game would never do.

Time’s up, the dance is done

I’m here, you're there,

Our game is lost,

or perhaps it’s won.

Comments

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